


Switzerland

by Morfox



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Car Chases, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, James Bond References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-20 17:20:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30008298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morfox/pseuds/Morfox
Summary: A mission gone wrong. A dead man walking. A nasty plunge of hypothermia.Alex rider has the worst luck.OrAlex Rider just really wants to be like Bond for once.
Relationships: Yassen Gregorovich & Alex Rider
Comments: 13
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired when my electric tripped and I was left in the cold for the day. 
> 
> Occurs after Eagle Strike, but assumes Scorpia doesn’t happen.

  
Luzern, Switzerland.

Alex stood in the centre of the football field and looked out over the Luzern Football Stadium. It would be so easy to forget that he was here on a mission.

This was finally the mission he had been made for. No computer geek persona, no school for delinquent teens, but instead he had been sent to a football trial at Luzern Football club in order to get close to the clubs owner who had been involved in some less-than-legal business.

This mission had been a far cry to what he was used to. He was finally beginning to feel like Bond, rather than a teen out of depth in this world.

It had been 4 days since he arrived, and he only had 3 days left before the trial was over. He was good at football, but in this trial, he would openly admit that he probably fell well below the average mark. He wasn’t a professional, didn’t have time to train and this place was filled with experienced footballers all trying to gain recognition. At least he had managed to save face by having good stamina.

He looked across the pitch before his eyes flicked up to the Executive Boxes. They were high up and looked over the whole stadium. Alex knew the view up there would be fantastic. He scanned across them until his eyes landed on the last one, the only one which was currently occupied.

And there sat Matteo Keller.

He was sat at the centre executive table in the room and hunched over his laptop. The laptop Alex needed to gain access to.

Alex had spent the first 2 days casing the area and laying the foundations for his cover story. Then the following 2 days had been making sly attempts to reach the laptop. In all that time he had not got even remotely close to that laptop.

He looked at his watch.

MI6 had been tipped off that Matteo had been working with unsavoury individuals in an assumed money laundering scheme. However, MI6 had suggested there was more to this man than met the eye. He had been a prime suspect of a murder several years prior and the charges against him had been dropped instantly. A few other similar incidents had put him high up on MI6’s watch list.

As always, Alex had been sent in for his young looks, something that made him disappear in a sea of younger faces. He had been sent to investigate and put a memory-stick into the mans computer. However, one thing had been painfully obvious from the start – the man was never apart from his laptop.

There were guards outside the room at all times, which signalled they probably knew of some of the dealings Matteo was involved with. The first day he had arrived there was a very large security presence with each footballer’s bags being searched. The guards had carried guns with them. They had stated that the security were here to ensure the safety of the footballs who were on trial – saying they were important people that needed to be protected. The footballers had, of course, eaten that right up. However, it was Alex who was more sceptical.

Alex’s right hand grazed his pocket where the memory stick sat. Despite the risk of holding it on his person should he get randomly searched, it was more worthwhile to carry it at all times should an opportunity arise to get to Matteo’s laptop.

MI6 had informed him that it just needed to be inserted for 2 minutes into the laptop. It would download everything straight onto it, regardless of if the laptop was logged in, and then he would need to take it back to the meet-up point with him in 3 days time by Luzern Airport.

He continued to stare up at Matteo. The man had been smart about his guards. Everything had been done by the book. Which had been his biggest mistake. There was a routine. And for someone in Alex’s position that was a gold mine.

Every night at 5PM on the dot, when training had ceased, the man would go outside for a smoke before coming down and congratulating the boys on a good day.

Alex took the window of opportunity on the 4th night.

He smiled at his watch as he glanced up and saw Matteo starting to stand up.

* * *

He made quick work of twisting off two of the studs on his football boots. Inside there were 2 small balls filled with explosives. Enough to create a distraction, not enough to kill anyone.

Setting of the explosives had been a bit too easy. He looked down the staircase that twisted down 4 floors to the ground floor and threw the explosives down. That would keep them distracted for more than he needed. He darted forward to hide in an alcove as the guards sprinted past him.

The door to Matteo’s private area was now unguarded.

He walked quickly, keeping his head down as he slipped through the door into the quiet Executive Box. He didn’t turn the light switch on.

Outside the pitch was empty so no one would see him up here, this was the perfect time to do this. He pulled the memory stick out of his pocket and slammed it into the laptop and stared down at his watch. 2 minutes. He just needed 2 minutes.

He glanced over to the door nervously. 2 minutes hadn’t sounded that long. But now, in the heat of the moment, each second ticked by impossibly slowly. He could feel his palms getting sweaty and his heartbeat starting to thump unpleasantly.

1 minute down. God how long was this taking? He took a deep breath. How long would it take for the guards to go down the stairs and find there was nothing? Would they even consider it was a distraction?

1 minute 45 seconds. Only 15 seconds left.

The door crashed open and 2 security guards came in all guns blazing. Great. Fantastic.

The first guard had begun shouting in Swiss and Alex held up his hands in a sign of surrender. Except the man didn’t lower his gun. Instead he kept it aimed at Alex’s head.

“Sorry, I thought this was the bathroom,” Alex said, lamely. It was an outrageously pathetic lie. “Is it the next door along?” Alex walked confidently, despite not feeling it, forwards to the door.

The guards gun swung out unexpectedly and slammed into the side of his head. He stumbled back in shock and touched his head, fingers coming back with blood.

“You can’t do that-“ Alex said, a slight nervousness coating his words. So he had been correct, these weren’t ordinary guards. Especially if they resulted to violence before asking questions. He swallowed.

“Sit.” The guard said, gesturing to the wooden chair at the side of the room.

“Maybe it was just a prank?” The second guard said, nervously looking around.

“No.” The first guard said, walking over to the desk, inspecting. He scoffed and pulled out the memory stick and threw it to the second guard. “Prank? No. My guess is Interpol or some other agency stupid enough to send a boy with _firecrackers.”_

The next 20 minutes passed slowly and painfully. The main guard had found a box of nails in a cupboard in the room and had taken to stabbing them in him for information on who he was, why he was here and what his agency knew.

He didn’t break. Even when he had stabbed 2 nails deep into his leg, he did not make a noise. He was just grateful they didn’t have more creative torture tools.

“If you wanted to play stick the tail on the donkey, you should have just said.”’

This had only antagonised the guard more and he swung out and slapped Alex around the head. His vision swam briefly and left him feeling dazed.

* * *

“Leave him.” The second guard said, gesturing to the window on the other side of the executive box which looked out over the stadiums car park. “Cossack is here. He can deal with him and then dispose.” A wicked grin in Alex’s direction.

Alex looked over to the window and saw a black Range Rover speeding up to the side of Stadium. He had an uneasy feeling settle in his stomach. This had turned too sinister too quickly for his liking.

“I’ll get Cossack.” The first guard said, and left.

As soon as the guard had disappeared from the window of the door, Alex stood and spun his chair quickly. The legs knocking into the guard and sent him flying. Alex then proceeded to jump back slamming the back of the chair into the floor which broke the wood and allowed the ropes to full around his arms. He wasted no time in knocking the guard out fully.

The next few seconds he frantically scrambled in the guards pockets looking for the memory stick. Except, he had accidentally pulled out a keychain too. Car keys. He pocketed them along with the memory stick and made for the door. In a moment of madness, he saw the box of nails and grabbed them too. He had a plan.

  
  


* * *

He left the room and went the most obscure route down to the car park outside, hoping all the way he wouldn’t run into the ‘Cossack’ man before he could get to the guards car.

It took all his power to not flat out run. But running was suspicious and Alex didn’t need the extra attention right now. He had nails in his leg which throbbed painfully and he was focussing on not limping.

He made it down all four flights of stairs gracelessly and stumbled out into the car park. He couldn’t see the Range Rover. He looked over to his right and saw a fleet of luxury vehicles that belonged to the other footballs and guards.

No black Range Rover here either. Maybe the man had left?

Alex, remembering the car key in his pocket, grabbed it and started pushing down the unlock button while eyeing up all the cars. 

And… _of course._

Of course its not one of the fleet of luxury cars. Tucked around the side of them was a grey Peugeot 206 which lit up when he hit the button. _Fantastic._

In a moment of sabotaging any pursuers, and definitely _not_ out of spite or jealously, he puts the nails under the tires of the other cars. It lost him valuable time but would ultimately help him out in the long run when the guards undoubtably came after him.

He heard the stadiums alarm blaring when he got to the Peugeot. Okay, so now they knew he had escaped. He dropped the nails on the floor of the passenger seat and jammed the key into the ignition while simultaneously noticing a ton of joke stickers plastered all over the dashboard. This car was tacky and was suitably _not_ a car James Bond would have got. He hit his foot down on the accelerator and the car jolted forward, shuddering slightly before he got the clutch level right to change up the gears.

He marvelled that, despite his young age, he should probably have sort of driving lessons soon. Another skill MI6 had neglected to train him adequately on.

In his rear view mirror he saw guards running into the vehicles and Alex hoped his plan had worked. There was shouting and pointing while they started up their cars and then the tyres popped. 

He did a whoop of victory as he turned a corner towards the back of the stadium car parking. He checked his rear view mirror again but this time noticed a garage door was opening that was built into the east wing of the stadium. He frowned. So that’s where ‘Cossack’s car had gone. 

He put his foot down as he went past the exit sign, keeping an eye on the new black Range Rover in his rear view mirror starting up and speeding into life. Well, fuck.

He hadn’t anticipated a side vehicle. He still stood by his choice to stay and put the nails under the tyres. Being chased closely by 1 car was better than being chased by 15 cars at a distance, right?

He swerved out onto the main road, ignoring the beeps of disgruntled drivers he had cut up. The adrenaline pounded through his body as he continued to swerve past cars. He definitely deserved a pay raise from MI6. Or, you know, some kind of compensation at all really.

Painstakingly slow minutes go by and he’s not lost the car, not even in the slightest.

The driver behind is quick on his tail. He can’t see anything in the blacked out windows of the pursuers car behind him and the lack of vision makes it all the more menacing.

Alex sees a sign for a junction and takes the turn last minute, hoping to throw the person off. It doesn’t work.

The car behind is much faster, the driver skilled. Alex would need to win with unpredictability. He swallowed, looking down one of the joke stickers on the side of the car door. It was peeling off and had gum stuck to it. **Off terrain vehicle**. Well, he would certainly put that to the test, joke or not.

He gulped and then suddenly swerved to the right and went up and over the curb before going through a tree line.

This was such a ridiculously stupid idea and he prayed it worked. He swerved sharply to avoid tree trunks and took risky manoeuvres to get through tight gaps between trees. He was being thrown around the car, and suddenly remembered that seat belts existed and he should have probably used one.

A quick glance in the mirror showed that he had _finally_ made a bit of ground between the Range Rover now, which was a bigger vehicle and had struggled to get through the smaller gaps Alex had.

Just as he was about to feel some hope in the situation the trees were suddenly gone and he was skidding on a _huge_ open plain of ice.

The car veered sideways as he skidded further out onto the ice. The ice area stretched on and on. He could barely see the other side.

Then the sickening realisation hit him.

This wasn’t just ice, but a frozen over lake.

What a _fucking_ monumental fuck up.

His heart beat increased ten fold. Maybe this was why MI6 didn’t pay him.

The ice seemed to be holding though, it looked thick enough and solid. He sped on against his better judgement. He would later refer to this as his first mistake.

The Range Rover emerged from the tree line and raced along the ice too. And if the situation wasn’t so dire, Alex would admire the beauty in the landscape and the _epic_ car chase.

_Finally_ , a mission where he felt like Bond. Or, you know, one of those really boring car commercials…..no. Bond. Definitely Bond.

Except that wasn’t the case at all. The other car had come to a slow stop. Alex frowned. The confusion increased when he saw they had started flashing their lights.

Instead of looking in his rear view mirror, the shock of the change of events caused him to turn around as he craned his neck to see out the back window. He was too distracted to notice the crack. He whipped his head back around as sharp crackling noises echoed out and then….he plummeted.

The car plunged straight down through the ice before his foot even made it to the brake. There one second and gone the next.

The impact caused his head to ricochet off the steering wheel sending a stream of blood ebbing down his temple. His head pounded and he felt suitably dazed, but he needed to focus. Everything seemed to start happening in slow motion and he shook his head to clear it.

He stuck his arm out and started immediately pushing on the door handle but the pressure outside was already too much and the door was a heavy weight that did not budge even in the slightest. The car hadn’t sunk slowly, it had gone straight under the water and was continuing to sink more.

There was a moment of loud silence where he could only hear his panicked breaths. Then the water started streaming in through seals in the door and windows, which began to fill up the foot wells.

He cast his mind back to the videos he’d seen about this exact situation. You had to wait for the car to reach the bottom so the pressure matched the outside, then the door would open. He didn’t allow himself to think that when he got to the surface, his chaser would be waiting anyway. A double trap.

He tried to take calming breaths as he waited for the car to reach the bottom of the lake. The water made his feet numb and climbed higher and higher. He had to choke back a gasp more than once. By the time the water was at his waist he wanted to moan from the sheer biting cold. He’d never experienced a cold like this before. He’d never complain about something as insignificant as a broken heater or a power trip on the electrics.

With a start, he realised that the water had caused the nails to come out of the box and they were now floating precariously around him. Fucking great. _Everything_ was out to kill him.

The water then came up to his neck and he audibly groaned at the coldness seeped to his core. His breaths came out sharper and faster. He had to actively force himself to calm down as the water went up and up. He strained his neck upwards.

It was then that he took his last breath.

Opening his eyes had been painful, but necessary. He waited. For the second time that day seconds had passed by at an agonising pace. Had he really been in Matteo’s office only half an hour ago?

The car then finally landed on the bottom of the lake. He pushed hard on the door and he wanted to let out a sigh of relief when he felt it open up. It was still a heavy weight and he exerted more energy than he would of liked, but he was _free_.

It was then that he started frantically swimming up to the surface.

This is when he made his second mistake.

He could see the light through the water and swam hard and fast. Just as he reached the surface he slammed into a wall of thick ice. _No….no…_

He slammed a fist against it. But it didn’t crack. Not even in the slightest. He didn’t allow the panic to set in and instead put his hands flat against the glass as he swam around. His eyes were darting around looking for the hole the car had created.

Everywhere he went, everything he touched was ice and solid and never ending. There was no hole. Nothing nothing _nothing._

The car would have made a significant hole it had to be around here somewhere. Then again… he’d been going quite the speed as it plunged in the water. It could be ages away and by this point he had no sense of direction. He clawed at the ice and knew panic was setting in thick and fast.

He knew he was now wasting valuable time trying to find where he plummeted through the ice. He would need to create a new hole to escape.

He started hitting the ice again, but it didn’t make any difference in the world. The water slowed his punches and the ice was a wall. It had been thick enough to support the weight of a _car._ Well, for the most part anyway.

He always escaped tricky situations. This was nothing new, he told himself. He looked around him, he was supposed to be _resourceful_. But in this situation there was nothing. He couldn’t even see where the car was at the bottom anymore.

The biting cold made his limbs feel tinged with numbness and the beat of his heart could be felt thumping in his chest. He had a sinking feeling he was going to drown as his lungs started to tighten. How long had he been under the water? How long could he even hold his breath for?

The thumps of his heart were getting faster and louder and….closer? The sound echoed out into the water and he stopped. That wasn’t his heart. He started slamming into the ice again and then a distorted figured came into view above him.

Alex started hitting the ice more and more, panic truly setting in now. He prayed his pursuers would take mercy. He didn’t want to die like this. He’d take a bullet over this any day.

He felt a slither of relief when the person started doing stomps to try and break the ice.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The figure crouched down and started punching the ice. This made much more of an impact than Alex, as the water wasn’t stopping them and the person was clearly very strong.

But the ice didn’t crack.

Instead it was now tinged red.

The person stopped banging and Alex felt a new wave of panic set in. No. _No._ Don’t stop.

Then the person left.

And he felt his heart break and his body shudder with not only the cold but a sense that his death was coming.

_Don’t leave me down here._

They had realised he was sure to die and had just left. Not even bothering to stay.

Alex wanted to cry out. This was it. His end. Alone. He was struggling to hold on much longer. His head felt like it was going to explode. His arms were numb and his legs struggled to keep him up.

He needed to take a breath but he couldn’t. He would be game over. He started thrashing, slamming his hand against the glass in panicked thumps. His arms were numb, he couldn’t feel a thing but he carried on hitting. He didn’t give up. His head was dying and throbbing and…

The person had reappeared.

They had started slamming something into the ice hard and fast. They seemed almost as panicked as Alex, no rhythm just erratic bangs.

The sound echoed out into the water in dull thuds.

  
Alex stopped hitting. The panic was ebbing away and a wave of calm was coming over him. His head was aching so badly from lack of oxygen. His head was going to explode. He needed to _breathe._

The other side of the ice was bright. So bright. And white.

Everything blurred.

His lungs screamed.

One breath and that would be it.

No more life.

No more _pain._

_Crack._

What would death be like?

What would it be like when he reached the other side?

Peace?

_Crack._

Would he see his parents?

He couldn’t fight anymore.

He breathed in.

The other side of the ice was so bright. Was this the light people spoke about? It had a heavenly glow and he felt himself drift.

He didn’t feel the hands that grabbed him and dragged him up and out onto the ice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the lovely comments on the 1st chapter! I hope you enjoy chapter 2!

There was an all encompassing darkness and then…

He spluttered, water going everywhere as he choked for breath. Loud messy coughs echoed out around him as water cleared from his lungs. He could then hear gasping and was vaguely aware it might be him. The feeling of light headedness was dizzying as desperate air filled his lungs. It felt satisfying and glorious and just so ridiculously _needed_.

He barely noticed the arm around his waist and the feeling that something warm was flush against his back. His mind didn’t register that it was a person until he was being pushed off and he was left sprawled on the freezing floor. The icy temperature seeped in to his sodden clothes and he curled up in the foetal position. The cold was _painful_. His body wracked with dwindling gasps for breath as his whole body shook. He was miserable to his core.

A minute passed by as his breaths came out slower and then curiosity won out and he cracked open his eyes.

Everything was so white and empty. It was vast expanse of nothing. A void. An extinction of everything and everyone.

He tried to push himself into a sitting position, albeit very shakily, but his arms were too numb to support his weight. He sprawled out onto the ground again as a trickle of red liquid ran off his forehead onto the ground next to him.

Before he could lift his hand to wipe it away a figure loomed over him and he squinted to focus his eyes and adjust them from the stark white surroundings.

It’s then that he met the cold blue eyes of a man who he’d long believed to be dead.

“Fuck.” Alex said, stilling entirely. “I’m dead.”

Yassen stared down at him.

“You are not dead.” Came the slow, yet exasperated, response.

Alex didn’t hear. The shakes wracking his body were all encompassing. The red liquid dripping from his head was also a distraction. But none of that mattered. Yassen was dead. Which meant…

Alex was on the other side.

What was this place? It was so white and bright. Heaven?

A cold wind whipped through and made him feel, impossibly, even colder. The shaking became uncontrollable. He was simultaneously numb while experiencing severe pain. He huffed, he couldn’t catch a break.

The next few minutes passed by strangely, but he figured that time was no object in heaven. His head swam and blood dripped down his face in heavy drops. He swiped a hand over his head, wiping the blood away. What was up with this ever lasting head injury?

He had thought that getting to his feet would be the hard part, but he was sorely mistaken. Each footstep was a heavy weight and he felt like he was dragging his body at an excruciating pace. He didn’t even know where he was walking, he was just being pushed along by the Russian.

After stumbling for the 4th time, he felt hands snake under his knees and then he was flying up and up. He groaned, his head spinning; this was not a fun experience.

He heard a mutter close to his head that said something akin to ‘taking too long’. Alex swivelled his heavy head around and could see the assassin was there. He looked down. Wait, he was carrying him? He wanted to protest and be put down, but at the same time _he really didn’t._ All his muscles had cramped and the shivers were hurting his arms, legs, abdomen… _fucking everywhere._

His head felt sluggish and it had began to lull against the mans shoulder. Everything spun around him. Colours of white and greys swishing and swirling. God, what was the rush? Why were they walking so damn quick? He looked ahead and focussed his eyes on a car in the distance near a tree line.

Woah, wait, that was the Range Rover. It had made it to the other side too?

“The car’s here.” Alex said, surprise in his voice as he could feel the mans eyes on him. He squirmed, wriggling to get free.

“I assume you saw me chasing you in it, yes?” The man said dryly, “Otherwise your normal driving leaves a lot to be desired.” 

“What, I -,” Alex said and then stopped, thoughts blurring together, “I haven’t even been taught to drive.”

Yassen raised a brow.

“Clearly. Do not do it again.”

Alex stared back at the car as they approached. How weird that the car was here. He couldn’t shake the weird feeling.

Yassen pulled at Alex’s sodden jacket as he put him down in the back seat. But Alex’s mind continued to be fixated on the car. How had the car made it through to the other side. What else was this side…

_Who_ else.

“Where’s mum and dad?” He blurted out, mouth speaking before the brain caught up. He started trying to sit up, head turning sideways to try and look behind Yassen, as if his parents would be right there. The man’s hand had been on the door and was about to push it closed but the question was enough to stop him in his tracks.

He stared at Alex, face completely blank, but something in his stance told Alex that the man had been caught off guard.

Alex continued to stare at the man with wide, owlish eyes.

The tense silence stretched on for a few more moments. Then the man tugged off his own jacket, draped it on Alex’s legs before he closed the door and made his way around to the drivers seat.

“Take off your wet clothes.” Yassen said, as he turned up the heating.

Alex didn’t hear. Maybe his parents were somewhere else?

“Oh,” Alex said, when he realised.

Yassen started the car and started slowly driving them back to the edge of the lake.

“I told Tom I wouldn’t make it into heaven.” Alex muttered with a sad huff. “He owes me a mars bar.”

* * *

The shaking got worse.

Alex didn’t know his muscles could ever feel this way. They were tensed and wracked with deep shakes that made him want to groan out in pain. He clenched his jaw down and his eyes fluttered shut, hoping to block out the pain.

He tried to sit up to ask Yassen for something, anything, to heat him up. But he then saw the stadium come into view. A thick layer of confusion surrounded his mind and he couldn’t decide if he was happy or panicked to see the stadium. He frowned, looking at his feet.

“Oh,” he said, figuring he had worked it out. “Is it training again?” He asked, looking down at the football boots on his feet once more.

“No.”

Alex frowned. “I’m a footballer.”

“No. You are not.”

He huffed and rubbed at his arms again. If he wasn’t a footballer then why – and through his muddled brain it started coming back to him slowly. Football, guards….Matteo?

His head throbbed uncomfortably and he raised his hand to scrub at his eyes. Why was _thinking_ becoming increasingly more difficult? From the cold or his head injury, he didn’t know.

“Wait,” Alex said, glancing around as another thought flittered through his brain.

MI6.

“No!” He said, struggling to pull himself up. He was absolutely spent but he couldn’t give up so easily.

“Cossack will kill me.” This earns him another look from Yassen. Again, indecipherable. His head swam and he rested it and started taking in deep breaths to calm himself. Why was _thinking_ so hard? Everything was confusing and dizzy and…

“You will stay in the car. Do you understand?” No answer. Yassen grabbed rope out the glove compartment and spent the next minute tying Alex’s wrists to one of the seats.

“No,” Alex moaned, wriggling. “Don’t.” He could not longer rub his arms. Everything _hurt_ with cold.

* * *

Yassen walked back down the stairs an hour later in the direction of the parking garage. Matteo and the remaining guards had believed the boy had died from drowning in the lake. However, should they decide to investigate, they would find a car at the bottom of the lake. There would be no body. It would take time to search the lake, which was a highly unlikely event anyway - and Yassen would be gone in 2 days.

Leaving Alex in the car had been a calculated risk. The car windows were blacked out and it was parked in a locked garage. Given the physical state of him, the boy wouldn’t have made it out the car, let alone the parking garage.

On second thought, the boy had always been able to escape even in the direst of circumstances. Yassen quickened his pace.

He entered the parking garage and was careful to make sure no one was following. He unlocked the car, opening the back door and looked down.

Yassen did not need to worry about the boy escaping.

He was blue.

“Alex?” He asked, reaching a hand to touch the boys head. Ice cold. The boys eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy.

He felt an uncomfortable foreign feeling settle in his stomach.

“Where now?” Alex murmured, speech slurring, reaching an arm out to seemingly nothing. It flopped back onto the seat.

Yassen didn’t answer. He made his way to the drivers seat and put the car in gear before he drove the car out of the garage.

“Airport?” Alex asked thickly, turning his head forward.

“No, you need medical attention. You have hypothermia.”

“No I don’t, I’ve stopped shivering.” Alex said, looking down before closing his eyes from exhaustion. His body was still. No more shakes.

Yassen looked him over again.

_Chert_.

He inwardly sighed. Hypothermia in its most severe stage showed no signs of shivering.

* * *

Alex was murmuring, he was sure he was talking but his ears didn’t pick up the words. Yassen kept looking at him, so maybe words were coming out.

Where was he?

The sky through the car window was getting dark.

He drifted. His head hurt.

“Stay awake.”

The words sounded heavy and dulled. Like he was listening through water.

Where was he?

* * *

The next time Alex woke up he was in a bed instead of the back of a car. And if that wasn’t confusing in itself, he didn’t know _what_ bed he was in. But it was safe to say he felt _awful._

His mind swirled with confusion. Someone was talking and he tried to focus on the room and the person but it was swaying so much.

He felt his arm lifted up and cool metal suddenly encased his wrist.

He moaned and tried to curl in on himself again, but his arm hung awkwardly above him, cuffed. Long gone were the thoughts of wanting to be Bond, he wanted to be _Alex._ He wanted to be home with Jack and wanted to sleep in his own bed.

He was given a hot water bottle wrapped in a blanket. It was placed on his chest.

Alex uncoordinatedly used his remaining arm to start rubbing his cuffed arm frantically trying to create some warmth. He was so _cold._

“Stop.” Yassen said, holding his wrist . “You need to warm your chest first. You don’t want to go into cardiac arrest.”

Alex stilled.

“But-“ Alex wanted to ask how he could die in Heaven. Maybe that’s why his parents weren’t here. Maybe they had died, even in heaven.

“Is my mum dead?” He asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

He looked up at Yassen but this time the man had his back to him. He frowned.

Alex’s head lulled sideways, it was too much energy to keep up. His eyes locked with the en-suite. The door was open and he could see the bath. The bath that could be warm. So so warm.

“No.” Yassen said. Had he spoken out loud? “Later. When your core is warmed first.” Great, so his arms and legs would suffer for much longer.

“Even in death you’re still trying to torture me,” Alex moaned, trying to wriggle.

Hair was swept back from his forehead and was followed by a gentle “Hush.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Everyone’s comments have been so lovely and motivating to read ❤️


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